


Healing the Hulk

by TeamThor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hulk Needs a Hug, Hurt Hulk, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Blood, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Thor (Marvel), Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Whump, can be read platonically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23652910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamThor/pseuds/TeamThor
Summary: After Ragnarok, Hulk sustained a few injuries. And he'd be happy to walk those off, or ignore them completely - until a certain sparky demigod interferes.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Hulk, Bruce Banner & Thor, Bruce Banner/Thor, Hulk & Thor, Hulk/Thor
Comments: 9
Kudos: 86





	Healing the Hulk

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic written under lockdown! Yay, please enjoy some feel-good thulk whump.

“Hulk. Hulk, wait!” 

After the attack on Asgard, and the subsequent destruction of Asgard, Hulk had decided that enough was enough. He was exhausted, and his leg was hurting, and all he really wanted to do was go somewhere dark and quiet and stare at the wall for a few hours until the next ‘big thing’ happened.

Because he got the sense that things were far from over. The book hadn’t closed, it was just time for a new chapter. And instead of having to beat something physically, it seemed their next enemy was time. And possibly starvation.

All in all it was just a little too morbid for him to be dealing with right now. 

And his plans would have gone swimmingly, if it hadn’t been for Thor, brandishing a medi-kit in one hand and rapidly limping after him as he walked down the hallway. 

“What?” 

“I just wanted to – can you stop walking, please? Norns,”   
Thor paused, resting his free hand against the spaceship wall, catching his breath. 

“You walk too fast.” 

“You walk too slow.”

“Touché.” 

Hulk turned, folding his arms defensively. “What do you want?”

Thor shook the first aid kit, striding forward a few steps and pulling a large box from the side of the corridor.   
“Sit down. You need healing.” 

Hulk barked out a laugh, turning on his heel once again.  
“Thor need healing. Hulk strong.”

“I’ve had my healing, thank you. Do you think I’m wearing this thing on my eye because it’s fashionable?” The demigod gestured towards his face, where a large bandage of linen was wrapped around his head. 

“Not fashionable.” Hulk sniffed contemptuously.   
“Thor look stupid.”

“Hey.”  
Thor pouted somewhat, looking a little put-out. He ran one hand over where Hulk guessed his eyebrow was, muttering something to himself about eyepatches and matching clothing.

“Well…See you, Blondie.” 

“No, no. You’re not leaving until I help fix your leg.” Thor promptly derailed whatever train of thought he’d been following to dart around Hulk’s side, splaying his hands out in front of him.

“Leg fine. You worry too much.” 

“By the looks of things, I haven’t been worrying enough,”   
Thor bit back a wince as he regarded the wounds on Hulk’s leg, with a scrutiny that made him want to switch back and let Banner give the demigod a lecture on workplace boundaries. 

“You got bitten by Fenris. How are you even still walking around?” 

“Got two legs. Goodnight, Thor.” 

“Oh, come on. Don’t be ridiculous.” Thor took another step further, fussing over the clasp on the medi-kit, grunting when it didn’t give way – and yelping in surprise when it did. 

Hulk grunted, moving away from Thor and his still-sparking knuckles, his overshadowed eyes that were quick to crease into a smile when it was needed, 

“Hulk fine, Blondie. Go away.”

“No, Hulk is not fine. Hulk went toe to toe with an undead wolf, almost got thrown off a waterfall into infinite darkness, and is now clearly concussed because he’s refusing medical aid from his very good friend: Thor, God of Thunder.” 

To his credit, the demigod was nothing if not persistent. Most people tended to listen to Hulk when he told them to go away. Most people didn’t really like approaching him to begin with.   
But, as the last few days had told him, Thor wasn’t most people. Thor was an absolute idiot who would poke and push at things until they either relented or flung him halfway across the universe. 

And at present, Thor was holding a medi-kit in one hand, and his other was already reaching towards a tender area of Hulk’s leg, and suddenly, it was too much. All of it had been too much today, but this. This was too much. 

“Thor, stop.” 

Thor’s hands stopped moving - possibly for the first time since...well, since Sakaar.

Hulk hadn’t really noticed that before. Or, maybe he had. Maybe he had noticed the incessant movement, the twitching and the shifting and the flexing of the fingers. Hands curling around where a weapon should be - and the brief moment of confusion when the demigod found there was none. 

Another similarity to mark between them, he supposed. Disorientated outside of battle, panicked within it. It was difficult to find a place in the world – now more than ever.   
Hulk had never really felt at home…anywhere, really. There were moments when it got worse, sure. When guns fired and lit up the night sky with flashes and smoke – that was worse. 

Maybe this was Thor’s version of that. There had certainly been smoke, anyway. Smoke and fire, built up in a terrifying form that was bigger than anything he’d seen before. And so what if he tried to punch it? That was what he did. That was his thing. 

‘Ohh, Hulk, you can’t fight the fire giant, we’ve got to blow up the planet.’  
Sure, Thor. He’ll just leave the big monster alone, let him live his life and maybe settle down in a fire-cottage somewhere in the fire-countryside. Because that makes sense.

Nothing made sense anymore. Not the planet blowing up instead of them saving it, not leaving behind the crowds of Sakaar just because Thor had asked, and definitely not the way Thor was looking at him now.

Concerned. Worried. Hands held still just above where the wounds still pulsed with pain. Thor was holding back because Hulk had asked him to. 

Hulk still had to get used to that. People doing things for him, simply because he asked. The high stakes world of having friends was something he was going to have to adapt to, someday. 

Thor was his friend. Thor wouldn’t hurt him – not here, not now. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Thor drew back, moving back to perch onto a box. Keeping low, keeping quiet. Sitting on one of his still-sparking hands in an effort to smother the lightshow. Thor, God of Thunder, was hiding his thunder. Because Hulk was scared. 

“Truly, Hulk. I didn’t mean to offend,” he raised his free hand away from the medi-kit, fingers splayed in a symbol of surrender that was painfully similar to what he’d seen in the arena.   
“I just want to help. You haven’t healed yet.” 

“Hulk heal later, Blondie.”  
He sighed, a deep, rumbling sound from somewhere in his chest, and tried to wave off the awkward sense of something or other that was lingering in the stale spaceship air.   
“S’not so bad.” 

Thor turned slightly, rising partly off of his seat – trapped between leaving and whatever it was that was holding him back. He paused, and Hulk could practically see the gears in his head whirring. The synapses lighting, pathways to thought illuminated by storms. 

The demigod turned, making a half aborted gesture to reach Hulk’s shoulder – but clearly thinking better of it and retracting it almost as soon as it happened. 

“Does it hurt?”

“What?”

Thor motioned to Hulk’s leg, where the bite-marks still stood out – bruised and angry, puncture wounds surrounded by dark green flesh, and it did hurt. It stung like nothing ever really had before. And the adrenaline was leaving him, and soon Banner might even come back out, and then he would have to deal with it all. 

“Your wounds. From the battle.” Thor sat back down fully, fingers hovering over the medi-kit.   
“Do they hurt?”

Hulk frowned, turning his head to stare out of the spaceship window.   
“A little.” 

Thor nodded, in what Hulk assumed was a poorly misjudged attempt at looking sage.   
“Hulk, can I tell you a secret?”

“…Okay.”

“I have no idea what I’m doing. With Asgard, with being King, with any of this. I have absolutely no idea how to handle any of this, but at present, pretending to know what I’m doing seems to be going rather well,” 

He smiled, a bitter and quiet reflection of the usual sun-bright smile. 

“What I do know is how to help my friends. So, I’m asking you as a friend, please. Just let me do the one thing I still know how to do so I don’t feel completely out of my depth?” 

And Thor was looking at him so earnestly, and maybe it was that the day had been long. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been dragged halfway across the universe, or the fact that none of them had come away unscathed from his battle. Thor was still bruised, one eye still bandaged and dark with blood, hands still dusty with the last few remaining ashes of his home planet. 

Maybe it was just that they were friends. Thor was asking for a favour, and they were friends. 

“Hmph.”   
Hulk eyed the medi-kit, eyed Thor who was still sitting in front of him, and made his decision.

“Fine. Blondie help,” Hulk moved to the side, closer under the artificial light of the spaceships lamp.  
“But watch it.” 

And the bitter smile on Thor’s face softened to something a little less blinding, but a lot more real. Soft. Some of the tension leeched out of his own shoulders, and his hands went to the medi-kit, and things turned a tad more domestic.

Hulk had never really been around for the time after a mission before. Usually, when the fight ended, he had to leave the scene in exchange for someone else. Bruce got blankets, and helping to his feet, and bandages for his wounds, and Hulk understood why. He wasn’t envious. Bruce needed those things a little more than him, he was a little easier to break, and it was fine. 

But he couldn’t say it wasn’t nice, seeing it for himself. Seeing the linen white bandages hide the torn flesh on his leg, feeling warm water pressed against his skin. Hearing the murmured words of comfort when he’d flinch at the press of a needle and thread. 

Thor packed up the medi-kit once he was done, and said something about retiring to his room. To be honest, Hulk was surprised he’d made it this far already without falling asleep where he stood. 

He hoped Thor was able to sleep that night. He felt that if Thor could sleep through the night, if the whole ship could fall quiet for just a few hours and wake when they passed in front of the next brightest star, maybe things would be okay. Maybe they’d go back to normal, whatever the hell that meant. 

He hoped Bruce would be proud of him, when he next came back. Proud of what the two of them had done, together. 

Maybe they could do more things together, someday. But for now, it was time to rest


End file.
